Category: Uncategorized

Who doesn’t love this bit from one of RFK’s most famous speeches?

“It is from the numberless diverse acts of courage and belief that human history is shaped. Each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centers of energy and daring those ripples build a current which can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance.”

I see it every time I ride down DeKalb Ave. on the B38 bus on the way home from Pratt.

The inverse of what Bobby was talking about could also be true, even if it seems too simple a chain of causality: even a tiny ripple of negativity might build a current which could sweep down the most laboriously forged human creations and bonds.

Some certain person needs to stop sending out those (at this point sizeable) ripples right now — and to recant what he has been saying and ask for forgiveness from those he has wronged. There’s no point in his continuing to foist his childhood traumas on innocent others over and over and over again. Particularly if he is in fact as self-aware as I suspect this person is, despite his bouts with nutty behavior.

I know I should follow the advice of others and not pay any attention to that behavior for fear of reinforcing it — and besides, I’m not the victim, so why should I care? Honestly, this isn’t intended as a reinforcement, and I hope it doesn’t function as such. It’s just… I’m a teacher… I can’t bear to see someone needlessly perpetuating this adrenaline cycle on himself. I can’t bear the painful but all-too-common paradox of seeing someone who wants to be loved turning himself into a pariah. Obviously, it’s his choice, and his behavior for which he needs to be responsible. And it’s none of my business. But this is a plea…and my last word on the subject.

Except that blogging (writing) is not a contact sport. That’s only one fucked-up paradigm out of billions possible.

Interior Squirrel

Went with Marianne yesterday to the Into me / Out of me exhibit at PS1, to hearCarolee Schneemann give a lecture on her oeuvre, and on the relationship of bodies to pleasure and to war. She showed parts of Viet/Flakes, as relevant today as it was in 1965, and Vulva’s Morphia, and talked at length on Interior Scroll.

One very funny anecdote involved a Danish interviewer who asked her, “how could you stand the pain?” of the Interior Scroll. Carolee responded that she had all sorts of unguent fluids available (avocado oil is the one I remember) to facilitate its ease of use. The interviewer said, “but the pain, the pain! Those claws!”

Carolee said, “claws?”

“Yes,” said the interviewer,”the claws of the interior SQUIRREL!”

Ah… the joy of translation.

Carolee referred wryly to the fact that only two of her works had ever been sold — all the rest are “in the shed.” She acknowledged that she has received critical acclaim, but also that, over the years, she has been called “pornographer,” “too diaristic,” “too heterosexual,” and any number of other unfair characterizations.

It’s an outrage that her work has been marginalized to the extent it has, given the centrality of the issues it raises. I thank her for her articulations.

Sheer intensity.

I’ve been watching TV programs to prepare for my consumerism class. After
viewing the first few episodes of “The Simple Life,” I thought, what
if we invited Paris and Nicole to stay with us in our Brooklyn apt.?
And call it “The Complex Life.” We could take them to the BPC — can
you imagine, like, introducing them to Ange Mlinko? How funny that
would be! And the camera operators would have a ball filming their
reactions to the cockroach colony that lives around our kitchen sink:
“ewww~!”

I really loved the scene in The Simple Life where Nicole had to check
a cow for pregnancy, so she puts on this long plastic glove and…
essentially… fists the cow. Then, when she pulls her arm out, she
chases Paris around the dairy farm threatening to smear her with
bovine vagina juice! O My God!

Also when the “girls” (as everyone calls them in the show, though they
are in their twenties) put these words up on the fast-food franchise
marquee: “1/2 price anal salty weiner bugers” — we should maybe
invite them to be on the flarf list.

TV sure has changed since I was a young lass.

I’m anemic. Again. Don’t want to do anything. So… tired….

from the coney island mermaid parade 2006

Hippie Sauce

(all measurements approximate — be intuitive please!)

2 tbsp. white miso
1 tbsp. tahini
1/2 clove minced garlic
1/2 a lime or lemon, squeezed
1 pinch cayenne pepper
dash o’ soy sauce
water to thin to desired consistency

That’s it, that’s all. It’s awfully good spooned over steamed vegetables.

There are a lot of things I like about Drew Gardner’s poetry. Last night, listening to him read/perform in a Soho bookstore, I made a list of some of them:

names: news anchors, actors, pols

short and/or mundane words: mad, sad, sandwiches

animalia: sealife in particular — seemingly endless supply of whales and tortoises — also hamsters and ORGONE GOPHERS (a phrase I instantly commandeered)

humorous self-deprecation (always good)

duly noted also: a groovy scale he played on his electro-keyboard — pentatonic? Drew, you tell me…

“The earth is but one country, and mankind [sic] its citizens”

I remain as vehemently secular as ever, but at the moment, in the wavering light and darkness of recent discussions, I’m interested in the Baha’i faith and in particular their vision of race unity. Could I overcome my abhorrence of the monotheism thing and actually convert? Hmmm…

A word from their sponsor:

Know ye not why We created you all from the same dust? That no one should exalt himself over the other. Ponder at all times in your hearts how ye were created. Since We have created you all from one same substance it is incumbent on you to be even as one soul, to walk with the same feet, eat with the same mouth and dwell in the same land, that from your inmost being, by your deeds and actions, the signs of oneness and the essence of detachment may be made manifest.

All men have been created to carry forward an ever-advancing civilization. The Almighty beareth Me witness: To act like the beasts of the field is unworthy of man. Those virtues that befit his dignity are forbearance, mercy, compassion and loving-kindness towards all the peoples and kindreds of the earth.

DON’T INSULTING CHIMPS

Calling humans “chimps ” is to necessarily an insult.

Don’t insult chimps. They’re family. [;)] but I don’t think chimp and human were cross. The datas from the experiement reinforce very well that human and Paris Hilton has the equivalent intellect to go head-to-head with any chimp out there.

Monkey art fools experts like Tim. But I really don’t care to hear about hairless apes. I live with several as it is.

Please don’t place whacko liberals in the same category as evolutionists. It’s insulting. Besides just because one believes in evolution does not mean that if brains were pasta you’d feel hungry, much like a chimp flinging dung as an insult.

Ask not at whom the Chimp smirks; he smirks at you.

Chimpanzees Don’t Wear Pants is a synthesis of modern evolutionary theory. People wonder why I don’t subscribe to the tenants of evolution. It’s insulting to the whole of humanity.

I don’t think saying someone is an Italian Mafia person is necessarily insulting. I call my husband “Bozo” all the time — does that mean I hate clowns!

‘Hippie Chimps ‘ Fast Disappearing in Congo — um, where are my pants?

Anyway, i don’t insulting America, i talking about my opinion. I have american friends

Ground rules:

1) Don’t insulting other people’s art

2) Don’t insulting me with your money.

3) Don’t insulting your comrades Stiletto, they’re all you’ve got. Anyway the Lucifer’s shielding system is impervious to any type of Plasma or Kinetic weapon.

I don’t even know why I waste my gold material on retards that can’t even insult above a 3rd grade level. Fuck.